The Lion and the Mouse
by Dreamnorn
Summary: Deathshipping, fem!Melvin. The day Ryou is late for school is the day he meets her. From then on she's branded into his memory: a searing gaze of dim violet and an unrelenting laugh. It's the chance encounters that change your life, Ryou figures. He's not sure if this one is for better or for worse... 1st Person AU. Genderbending! T for cursing, blood, and suggestive themes.


_This story is a combination of three of my favorite things._

_First, it's Deathshipping. This couple needs more love._

_Second, it has genderbending, but not in the conventional turn-the-ukes-into-women way. No, I decided to turn a couple characters people typically see as the semes into women (although two of them are personal exceptions for me, as I prefer Bakura to bottom in Thiefshipping and Kaiba to bottom in Puppyshipping). I don't know why, but I like to see the more (arguably) effeminate characters get dominant, and what better excuse do they have than being the one who's male in a straight relationship? Forgive my dumb logic; I just like it._

_Finally, it plays a bit with perspective. The story is first-person and I wanted to toy with stream of consciousness. You could say that I've been inspired by __**The Sound and the Fury**__ and __**Flowers for Algernon.**_

_The genderbent characters are Bakura, Yami, Seto Kaiba (renamed Seiko Kaiba), and Melvin aka Yami Marik aka Mariku (renamed Margo because is "Melvina" even a name?). Everyone else so far is normal. The personalities are sort of abridged... maybe? I think it's all up to interpretation. I like to mix the abridged and canon personalities myself. So yes! Enjoy!  
_

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**The Lion and the Mouse  
**Chapter One**  
**

I could feel my hams aching as I tore across the lawn. Sweet biscuits with jam, not again! Bakura will pay for shutting off my alarm. When I see her, I'll give her a nice, firm talking-to! Then she'll be sorry. Oh, but my sister is never sorry. Oh, bugger. Why do I have to be related to one of the craziest girls in Domino High? Why twins? Why?

Although I do suppose it could be worse. I could be Marik. Poor fellow, stuck with… _her_. And I'm not referring to Isis. I'm talking about _her_, his little twin sister. I say "little" to mean younger because she's the tallest girl in the world, and I may not like to judge in passing, but from what I've seen of her, she has all the deviousness of Bakura, but with less cunning. Another bully. I do empathize with Marik. I do.

Oh, bugger, my legs. There's absolutely no way I can get to class on time. Bugger, bugger, bugger. I suppose I should just resign myself to accept my late fate and keep a stiff upper lip. Last time I had yelled so hard at Bakura that I cried, and I had sorely hoped she was sorry, but this morning has made me drop the notion. All that episode did was make me look like a baby before the school. A man can be sensitive and kind of short without being a baby, right? I'm no less of a man. I can be very manly. Read my poetry and you'll see how strong-hearted I can be!

Despite my positive thinking, I heard the bell ring moments before making it to my locker. I let out a gasp, my legs having lost all their feeling in the sprint from my house to school. As I waggled my finger to a tiny imaginary Bakura (I find finger-waggling terribly menacing), I opened my locker to retrieve my books. My maths teacher had certainly already marked me absent, so taking an extra moment to rest wouldn't hurt.

Naturally, when I looked to the spot where my books were supposed to be, there was a note with Bakura-esque handwriting and a cartoonish representation of her giving a thumbs up. I groaned. The content of the note is doubtless but, being me, I'll read it anyway:

_Ryou —_

_I'm borrowing your shit. Your notes are better than mine. Turned off your alarm so you wouldn't say no. Also borrowed some money for lunch._

_I'll buy you butterscotch later._

_— The Thief Queen_

"Brilliant," I murmured, if only to break the silence of the halls and vent some of my frustration. The sad thing is I would have let her borrow my books if she _had_ asked me. Oh, Ryou, you have to not be such a pushover. It only encourages people like Bakura to walk all over you.

In a moment of agitation, I felt like kicking something. My foot pulled back, intent on slamming the locker door, but instead it tapped against the metal gently, and even the door clicking softly closed seemed like a massive crash in the silence.

The clink echoed in the large, empty halls. Suddenly, I felt small, smaller than normal, and even though it was day and I knew it was silly, in that moment my legs found the strength to flee to the nearest classroom. I turned to do just that.

I hadn't even taken one step when a terrifying yowl broke the air.

The sound was loud, rough, and brief. I looked around for its source, my body frozen in place and my sole desire to scream with it. It stopped and I began to dart down the hall, but stumbled a little as soon as her voice — suddenly human — exclaimed a loud, pained "fuck!"

Someone is hurt. Oh, bugger! I have to find her and make sure she's okay! Even if I don't recognize the voice, it has to be a student or a teacher and oh, I hate hearing people in pain, and short abrupt choking and hitching sounds were coming from the other end of the hall and before I knew it, I had turned the corner and screeched to a halt a few feet from her form.

"Are you okay?"

Her head was down, spikes of blonde hair falling over her face as her hands supported her torso. She was in a puddle by the drinking fountain, and her left leg appeared as though it had hit the lockers very hard. Oh, bugger, did she not notice me? Her voice is still hitching. I find that rather unnerving.

"Are you okay, ma'am?"

She lifted her head, eyes closed, and guffaws of laughter erupted from her throat, sudden, scary, and in that instant I knew who she was. It's _her_, Marik's younger sister. How could I have not recognized her immediately? She looks as distinct as it gets: spiky blonde hair, tanned skin, tall, practically fanged…

"Fucking little Bakura-brother," she cackled, "asking if _I'm_ okay? Please. Get back to your class and stir up trouble like your darling older bitch, won't you?"

…Eyes the color of mountain silhouettes… lovely and deep… yet somehow so empty. What was I thinking about, again? Oh, bugger, Ryou, you're supposed to be _helping_ her, not gawking!

"Here," I offered, holding out my hand. "Let me help you up." I gave her a polite smile. My parents raised me to be a gentleman, and I'm sure everyone can appreciate politeness.

"Piss off," she growled suddenly, swatting my hand away.

I pulled my hand back and watched for a moment. I'm unsure as to whether I should be surprised at her behavior or not. She kept cursing to herself, attempting to stand. My eyes drew to her leg, which looks bent in an almost inhuman way. "Oh my," I mused before I could help it. She must have slipped quite magnificently to have caused such an awful-looking injury.

"Don't touch me," she spat, growling and narrowing her eyes. In that moment, I realized that my body must have acted almost as if under its own pretense, kneeling down beside her on the cool tile floor, because that's suddenly where I found myself. The way the girl looked, spiked hair curving about her powerful face, dulled purple gaze staring into me, unusual eye-markings enhancing her stare — it brought to mind the image of a wounded lioness: proud, vicious, unwilling to call for the help she needs. Well, this Brit has never let down a lady _or_ a kitty! Even if she gets mad at me, she has to be okay with _some_ help, right?

Determined not to shy away before her forbidding scowl and eyes like glimmering space, I tilted my head, looking directly back at her. "I'm terribly sorry, but I'm unsure if you can lift yourself up with such an injury." I leaned a comfortable distance towards her in my squat. "Perhaps you could use some help?"

"Margo Ishtar needs no help."

"Maybe not you," I responded, "but your leg, at least, would thank me if you let me help you to the nurse."

"Legs can't talk. They don't give a fuck, let alone thanks."

"I'm not sure if you can stand on your own."

As if in defiance, Margo sat up, her sharp nails embedding themselves into the metal of the lockers as she clung to them for support. I say, she _is_ as strong as she looks! I don't think I could dent a locker even if I tried. Speaking of trying, she attempted to pull herself up, but about a third of the way Margo slipped, unleashing a snort of pained discomfort as her outer thigh hit the ground. My eyes flicked to the floor, where the small pool had begun to soak into the front and sides of her jeans. I frowned.

"Is the fountain broken?"

"Why don't you leave me the fuck alone?"

Because you're hurt, and I understand you're in a bad mood but I want to see you make it to the nurse's office because that leg looks quite bad and even though I don't really know you, I want to make sure you're okay. That's what I wanted to say.

What I said aloud was, "I don't like seeing you hurt this way."

Margo laughed her vicious laugh as it echoed through the halls. What did I say that was so funny? That was not supposed to be a joke, you know! I felt my cheeks heat up and my chest grow heavy with some feeling that might have been embarrassment, but there was something off about it, like I wanted to hide instead of laugh it off like normal. This is certainly unusual. Why would I—?

"What a load of shit!" she snarled through her grin, startling me, looking very much like a dragon who had just found a tasty knight to snack on. "You don't know me, and here you are, telling me you give a damn!"

"But I do," I replied. Ryou, why are you saying all this? Hush up, mouth! Stop talking without my permission! "I see you in passing sometimes, and you look tall and regal and proud — not like a princess, or even a queen, really, but rather like an empress of sorts. I find that word carries its own connotation that suits you to a tee. And seeing you on the ground, fallen, unable to get up… well, you appear to normally support yourself so well, and to look at you in this state gives me great sadness."

"I don't need your pity, creampuff."

"I don't pity you. I just feel sad."

The Egyptian stared at me, her expression falling to a neutral frown, perhaps mimicking my own, and was silent. Oh, my. I sincerely hope I didn't make things awkward. Why did I divulge such information so easily? Wait, Ryou — _information?_ Why on earth am I using _information_ to describe what I had said I thought about her? Honestly, I had never thought about it that way before, what I had said in regards to her composure. Of course, some of what I said was partway right, what with me normally seeing her in passing and all that, but why did I have to sound so bloody personal? Really, Ryou? Do you even hear yourself speak?

Then she let out a low snarl and oh, bugger, it sent a shiver up my spine and I almost made to pull back that moment, and then my thoughts were interrupted, I'm sure, moments after they had begun, although it felt like eons had passed since I last spoke, and I had spent those eons self-analyzing and gazing into those eyes.

"You won't get lost until I let you help me, will you?" she grumbled, tense, her nails scratching against the ground.

"I won't leave until you go to the nurse's office, and in order for you to do that, I'd have to help you. And in order to help you, I'd first need your permission. I won't touch you without you allowing me to. I say that would be quite rude of me."

She let out a prolonged growl and held up her arms as though she were a criminal about to be arrested. "Make it quick, creampuff."

Joy filled my being — accompanied with a polite smile, I'm sure, because Margo huffed as she stared back at what must have been my quietly triumphant expression. I held her wrists with my small hands and backed up. She supported herself against me and the lockers, and I gently guided one of her hands around my neck.

My, my, she really _is_ the tallest girl I've ever met. That, and I'm short for a young man, somewhere between 1.6 and 1.65 meters. But even taking my height out of consideration, Margo is frightfully tall, towering at nearly two meters. Of course, I don't know her height for certain, but she once stared down a two-meter-tall male student by looking him right in the eye. He ran crying. I suppose that just shows what kind of reputation she has.

"You're lighter than you look," I said before I could think, flashing her a smile over my shoulder. I had already begun walking her to the nurse's office.

Margo scowled. "Thanks a lot, douchebag. My fat ass and I will be sure to remember that!"

Oh, bugger, she took that the wrong way! Pardon me, I'm flinching, but her nails are in my arm oh goodness what do I say?

"N-no, I didn't mean it like that!" I protested. "I suppose I just expected you to be heavier since you're so tall!" My face feels hot. Oh, bugger. Oh, bugger. She still looks mad! "I'm so sorry, ma'am. I had no intention of accusing you nor your bottom of being overweight! It's just you're tall and I—"

Margo burst out laughing. Bloody hell, my face feels so hot. I know it must be red. Oh, bugger, I must look like such a wanker right now! "'Bottom?'" she scoffed, her smile curled and her eyes narrowed. "What are you, four?"

"I'm eighteen, thank you," I replied, though not the least bit sarcastically nor scathingly. That was so embarrassing. I don't understand this. Normally it's so much easier to laugh off my discomfiture, and the only time I blush so much is after aerobics and that's because I'm not the most athletic person there is, even if I am thin, so why…?

"And I'm seventeen." What? I looked at her with what I'm sure must have been an edge of surprise accenting my otherwise hopefully-neutral-but-quite-blushy frown. Margo was giving me a neutral frown back, but without the blush, I'm certain.

…Well, not totally certain. It's those eyes. My own are simply drawn to them. Oh, bugger. Look away before she — scowls. Margo growled, "What?"

Oh, she noticed! Ryou, what is _wrong_ with you today? At least _try_ to shrug it off!

I put on a polite smile and chuckled. "Oh, it's nothing. Don't mind me."

"You were staring," she snarled. "Fucking creep."

"I wasn't staring," I replied in my most nonchalant, innocent British voice. "I was observing."

"The zits on my face, or the crap in my teeth?" she asked, her face contorting into — oh my, that _is_ a rather intimidating grin, isn't it?

But more importantly, "I see no plaque or blemishes to speak of," I stated honestly. Margo laughed cruelly in response. I frowned. Something seems off about her laugh… I'm not sure what, but it's something. What could it be?

Maybe I'm over-thinking this. I really don't know Margo too well. I have a fine ear, but I'm probably just imagining things.

I turned my head. Ahh, there it is. "I do, however, see the nurse's office."

Margo stopped laughing and her face melted into that smirk again. "Then knock."

I stared at the door. Bugger. Both of my hands are occupied.

"Umm…."

Margo started laughing again. I gave her a disapproving look over my shoulder. She knew my hands were occupied in helping hold her up and yet she still asked. That's a tad rude, isn't it? But to my surprise, she actually straightened up a bit, placed one of her massive hands on the top of my head for balance, reached out, and knocked for me. "It's a joke, creampuff," she cackled. "Taking shit too seriously will kill you."

"I don't know what to say," I murmured. Oh… well, at least she didn't just watch me try and fail to knock on the door for her own amusement. She sounded kind of like Bakura when she said not to take things too seriously. Then again, Bakura is all about serious business, the hypocrite. In contrast, I believe Margo really means it. I smiled apologetically at her. "I'm sorry for the look."

"Fucking please," she snorted. "You couldn't scare a butterfly."

Ms. Valentine opened the door, quirking her brow at me before I could think to answer Margo. I suppose I must look rather silly right now, being as short as I am and supporting one of the tallest people in the entire school. I grinned regardless. "Hello, Nurse Valentine."

"What in the world happened?" asked Ms. Valentine, her brow furrowing in confusion.

The Egyptian growled from my side. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "Umm." I swallowed, feeling a light shiver go up my spine. "I believe Margo slipped in water from a broken drinking fountain. I found her hurt with her leg in a bad way."

Ms. Valentine opened her mouth but Margo spoke first. "This little creampuff here wouldn't leave me the fuck alone," she elaborated, her tone calm and dark. "He was too damn insistent on bringing me here."

"It's a good thing he did. You're obviously hurt." Ms. Valentine looked at me. "Does your first block teacher know you're out of class?"

"I fear I never made it to class, ma'am," I confessed, feeling guilt well up a bit over being late.

Ms. Valentine smiled. "Don't worry about it," she said. "I'll take Margo from here and give you a late pass so your teacher will excuse your tardy."

"Thank you, Ms. Valentine." I gave her a gracious grin.

Ms. Valentine gently placed her hands on Margo's sides and Margo gripped me a bit tighter, making me flinch. Her nails gently scraped against my skin before she was lightly pulled off and was situated against Ms. Valentine as she was against me. The Egyptian looked somewhere between disgruntled and furious all of a sudden. "Now, then," Ms. Valentine said, directing her attention to Margo, "Why don't you thank this young man for helping you all the way over here?"

Margo gave me a psychotic smirk. "Creampuff." I felt a shiver go up my spine again.

Ms. Valentine looked at her disapprovingly, about to speak before I interjected. "I believe that's the best we'll get out of her, ma'am," I said, giving her and Margo both a good-natured grin.

The nurse looked at me and smiled back. Margo started laughing loudly, snorts cutting through her guffaws, and again I felt as though there was something off about it, even if her face otherwise had the same insane smirk as she had before. Her eyes were closed, and her head was facing away from both me and Ms. Valentine.

Ms. Valentine took Margo to her nursing bed. As I lingered in the office so that the former could give me a pass, I felt a moment of cool purple hum through me the way a ghostly chill enters one's heart. But as soon as I turned to look at Margo, she had faced away again.

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**_To be continued..._**

_I can't believe I just genterbent Melvin... hopefully I won't get mauled too badly for that._

_Reviews and favorites are always loved. Criticism is welcome, as long as it's polite. Thank you very much for reading!_


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